


No one ever said it would be this hard

by thingcalledlove



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Felicity is in mourning, Non-Explicit Sex, Oliver comes back from the dead, or is she just hallucinating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 22:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3149996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingcalledlove/pseuds/thingcalledlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been 88 days since Felicity Smoak’s entire life had fallen apart.<br/>88 days since she had received news that Oliver Queen had been killed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No one ever said it would be this hard

**Author's Note:**

> This based on a tumblr prompt.

It had been 88 days since Felicity Smoak’s entire life had fallen apart.

88 days since she had received news that Oliver Queen had been killed.

She put on a brave face as she tried to pick up the shattered pieces of her heart and go on living. After all, this wasn’t her first exposure to loss. No her father had started her early in that department. This was the one that hurt the hardest. The one she couldn’t think about without her chest squeezing painfully together, making it almost impossible to breathe, the one that had left her feeling as if a part of her had been killed right along with him.

Walking through Palmer Industries was a daily challenge, memories of Oliver lurking in every single corner of the building. It had been his after all. Her own office was the one that used to belong to him. It’s where she felt him the strongest.

After the incident, Ray Palmer had offered to move her to another executive suite, but she had refused. This was a little piece of him she could still hold on to. She knew it wasn’t healthy. She should be learning to move on from this, not entrapping herself further into, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to move on from this. Move on from him.

He had told her he loved her. She had just watched him walk away. To his own undoing. She would have traded it all just to have that single moment in time back. To have been able to tell him that she loved him too.

* * * * * *

“Felicity.”

She jumped; hand on her chest as she looked over at Diggle, his arms crossed over his chest.

He wore the arrow suit. He had stepped into the role. Oliver may have been gone, but Starling city was still here, in need of a hero.

John Diggle looked at her with compassion she didn’t think she deserved. She turned away from her, focusing on her screens. Starling city was quiet tonight.

“You should go home,” Diggle stated firmly, “Roy is patrolling tonight, but it’s a quiet one. We’ll call you if we need you, but I think we’ll be okay.”

His voice left no room for argument, and Felicity couldn’t find the fire within herself to challenge him. She nodded numbly as she gathered her belongings. Her eyes slid to the salmon ladder that hung over her workstation. She could practically hear the bar clanging as Oliver worked her way up and down the thing. It felt like a millennia ago.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Diggle asked with concern.

“Yeah,” Felicity answered with a faux smile that she knew Diggle would see through, but he didn’t press her. He was giving her time to grieve.

* * * * * *

Felicity curled up on her couch in her pyjama pants and a shirt of Oliver’s she had taken from the Foundry. The scent had faded from it with time, but it made her feel closer to him.

She lifted up her tablet and went to work on her own little side project.

Hunting down Ra’s al Ghul.

Her coffee table was littered with any little miniscule detail she could find about him. This wasn’t about vengeance to her, it was about justice. As much as she wanted to make the man pay for what he had done, she knew in her heart that that wasn’t what Oliver would have wanted her to become. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t track him down and stick him in a cell right next to Slade Wilson.

* * * * * *

Felicity awoke with a jolt. The room had gone dark, and the glowing clock on the cable box told her it was well past midnight. She must have fallen asleep while researching, but that didn’t explain the chills that ran over her body. Something felt off.

She slowly got off the couch and over to the light switch. She flipped it on and froze.

“Felicity.”

She shook her head. This was some sort of sick joke. A nightmare.

Oliver Queen leaned against a wall, his eyebrow cocked up slightly. Looking very, very alive.

“I’ve lost it,” Felicity muttered softly, “I have actually completely lost my mind. I am hallucinating now.”

“You’re not hallucinating,” Oliver, or whatever he was, said, pushing himself off the wall and towards her.

She took a step back, but made contact with the wall. There was nowhere else she could move.

“I’m right here,” he said softly, his eyes darkening in recognition at the blue button up that was much too large for her frame.

“No you’re not,” Felicity whispered with a small shake of her head. Oliver was dead. A blade right through his chest, and fall down a mountain. There was no way he could be here in her house.

His hand cupped her face gently, and she found herself tilting into it. He felt so real, so warm.

“You’re dead,” she whispered against the calloused skin of his hand.

“It’s not the first time I’ve come back from the dead,” he said with a dark grin.

She prodded him in the chest with her finger (which also felt incredibly real) “That’s not even the slightest bit funny,” she growled.

“I know,” Oliver agreed as his hand traveled down from her face to her sides. He grasped the hem of her shirt (his shirt really), his eyes asking for permission.

She gave the slightest of nods. This may not be real, but it was too much to let pass. If her subconscious was dreaming all of this up, she wasn’t going to be the one to stop it.

She raised her arms and the shirt was pulled up over her head, landing on the floor in a heap. She swallowed hard as Oliver took her in. His eyes lingered on her lips, and then he claimed them. The kiss was just as explosive as the one they had shared in the hospital the night Sara had been born. Except this time she wouldn’t pull away.

She pulled him in closer, the space between their bodies disappearing as his chest was flush against hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck as the kiss deepened, never wanting to let him go. She poured everything into that kiss. All the feelings she had held in tight for the last 88 days. The grief and despair, the heartbreak. It was all in that kiss.

She grasped onto the hem of his shirt, he moved back just enough so that she could pull it off, their mouths breaking apart.

Felicity scanned her eyes over his chest and torso. Her eyes landed on a scar on his chest. It hadn’t been there before. It was thin, and Felicity knew immediately that it was the one that had killed him. It looked exactly how she had imagined it look.

Her lips landed on it, and she kissed it gently. She felt Oliver shudder. His arms were immediately on her, and then she felt her feet leave the ground as he picked her up. She wound her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom like she weighed nothing at all.

He set her down on the bed gently and then carefully hovered above her, his weight resting on his hands. He ground his hips into her, making her gasp at the sensation. It had been entirely too long since she had done this. After Oliver, her mind had not even thought about this, but now that he was here, her mind could think of nothing else.

She pulled his face in towards hers, capturing his mouth into another heated kiss, biting down on his bottom lip until he let out a groan. The sound traveled right down to the spot between her legs that ached for him.

His fingers ghosted over the waistband of her pyjama pants. Felicity moved into his touch, wanting more. He watched her intently as his fingers slowly inched their way into her pants. The first bit of contact had her gasping, her eyes fluttering shut and her hips arching up into his touch.

She’s not sure if it’s because of Oliver’s competence or the fact that it’s been a long time, but it didn’t take long before Felicity bit down onto Oliver’s shoulder as waves of pleasure overrode her body, crashing into her, drowning her in a feeling utter bliss.

“Sorry,” She said mortified at the deep imprint of her teeth on his shoulder blade.

“Don’t be,” Oliver replied, his lips curved up into a smile, “I kind of liked it.”

She found herself feeling flushed.

And aroused.

Oliver appeared to have picked up on that pretty quickly, and within moments her pants are gone and so are his.

Felicity reached out beside her, her hands knocking things over on the nightstand before her hand comes in contract with the handle of the drawer. She pulled out a condom and wordlessly handed it to him.

Ninety-seven percent of her brain is still convinced that this is a dream and that Oliver Queen is still dead, but the three percent that doesn’t believe that is determined to do this the right way.

Oliver knelt between her legs, his gaze traveled up and down her body uninhibited by clothing. He leaned in over her, his lips headed for her neck as his hands wandered over her body, igniting her.

He peppered kisses down her body and back up until his eyes locked in with her own. Felicity hitched her breath when he entered, his hard body a contrast to her own softness. Her arms wrapped around his biceps for support. Each thrust is deeper than the last. Faster. It is too much, and yet not enough.

Felicity’s head fell back, eyes rolling up in pleasure as her orgasm took over. She called out his name repeatedly until he shuddered, his own pleasure poured out of him.

His naked body is curled around her own, his arm heavy on her waist.

“Sleep,” He muttered in her ear.

“I can’t,” Felicity replied softly, “I’m scared that I’ll wake up and you won’t be here.”

He turned her head so that she can look at him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” He promised, sincerity clouding his eyes, “Not after everything I had to do just to get back to you.”

* * * * * *

Felicity awoke to find herself in bed. Alone. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest as she threw off the covers.

She paused, noticing that she’s wearing the same button up shirt from the night before, but not much else. The TV in her room is also on, and there on the screen is a picture of Oliver, with the heading, _‘Oliver Queen: Back from the dead...Again.’_

“Good morning.”

She looked over towards the bedroom door, where Oliver stood in nothing put a pair of boxers, a glass of water in his hands.

She leapt across the room and into his arms. He dropped the glass in order to catch her, and it shattered on the floor, but she can’t think about that now.

“You’re really alive,” She whispered as she clung on to him with every fibre of her being. She heard the vibrations travel through his body when he chuckled. He came back. He came back to her.

“I am going to wrap you up in bubble wrap,” Felicity scolds, not certain if she is serious or not.

“I won’t stop you,” Oliver promised with a little upturn of his lips.

“I love you,” Felicity announced softly as she stared into the eyes she never thought she would see again.

“I know,” Oliver replied seriously, “I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life, but the stupidest things I’ve ever done was to walk away from you. From us. I won’t make that mistake again.”

 


End file.
